On Reading Poems And Songs Of Burns
The poems and songs of Robert Burns are still living
And though his body died more than two hundred years ago
His spirit and his soul will live forever
You will find them where the Afton Waters flow.
He was the pride of Scotland Robert Burns
The greatest of his clan and of his race
And along with Walter Scott he ranks as his Country's greatest
And in literature he commands the highest place.
'For Auld Lang Syne' will surely live forever
As Robert Burns gift to the New Year
When you attend a new year celebration
More likely than not Lang Syne you will hear.
His great poems To a Mouse and To a Mountain Daisy
His haunting ballad to his Red Red Rose
The great poet living in his songs and verses
And the legend that grew with him grows and grows.
You see the music in the poems of Burns
He was more than a peasant man of rhyme
He was a humanitarian and a great poet
The lesser bards have faded out in time.
He died in poverty but he is famous
His songs and verses known and sung World-wide
The fame of Burns will live on forever
He brought to Scotland patriotic pride.
From Alloway In Ayrshire Robert Burns
His legacy the marvellous gift of song
The Scottish his birthday and birthplace honour
But to all peoples his verses belong.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Auld Lang Syne
(r.burns)
Traditional new years eves song. jeff performed it live at mercury lounge, new york, on december 31 1995.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And auld lang syne!
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
Well tak a cup o kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
And surely yell be your pint stowp
And surely Ill be mine!
And well tak a cup o kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
Well tak a cup o kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
We twa hae run about the braes
And poud the gowans fine
But weve wanderd mony a weary fit
Sin auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
Well tak a cup o kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
We twa hae paidld in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine
But seas between us briad hae roard
Sin auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
Well tak a cup o kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
And theres a hand, my trusty fere
And gies a hand o thine
And well tak a right gude-willie waught
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
Well tak a cup o kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
song performed by by Jeff Buckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Oor Rabbie's The Man For A' That
The Twenty Fifth of January 1759,
A talent was born who'll forever shine,
Though his life would be full of twists and turns,
There'd be no better writer than our own Robert Burns.
Rabbie Burns our national bard,
If you gave him an inch he'd take a yard,
His love of women caused a few stares,
As he carried on his illicit affairs.
He'd have loved to have been a man of leisure,
Surrounded by women that was his pleasure,
Contrary to what some people may think,
He was never that fond of the demon drink.
For the whole of his life he was forever in vogue,
A Jack the lad a loveable rogue
But one thing you can never take away,
Is the words he wrote will forever hold sway.
'‘Scots Wha Hae'' is a poignant verse,
When read, in it's content you will soon immerse,
That is the gift of a brilliant writer,
They can make you feel you are that fighter.
With his God given talent for poems and songs,
In our memories forever is where he belongs,
He tragically died just aged thiry seven,
The Lord must have needed his talents in heaven.
The day of his funeral was not quite forlorn,
On that very day his son Maxwell was born,
As Rabbie would've said, before I go,
Trust one of my children to steal the show.
His poems and songs forever sublime,
Have proven they can stand the test of time,
Over two hundred years after his death,
His words are as popular as Shakespeares Macbeth.
The titles he wrote like''Auld Lang Syne''
Mean his popularity will never decline,
His writings will live forever more,
The poems and songs will keep him to the fore.
If Rabbie Burns were alive today,
I think I know just what he would say,
The women are gorgeous the worlds deranged,
From my time till now nothing much has changed.
So as you sit and enjoy your haggis dinner,
Think of the poet not the sinner,
So all please stand and doff your hat,
‘' Oor Rabbie's The man For A' That ‘'
Auld Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind ?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne ?
CHORUS
For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
And surely ye’ll be your pint-stoup !
and surely I’ll be mine !
And we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We twa hae run about the braes,
and pou’d the gowans fine ;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
sin’ auld lang syne.
CHORUS
We twa hae paidl’d in the burn,
frae morning sun till dine ;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
sin’ auld lang syne.
CHORUS
And there’s a hand my trusty fiere !
and gies a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll tak a right gude-willie waught,
for auld lang syne.
CHORUS
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Burns and Scott
Meeting of Burns and Scott in Edinburgh.
When Burns did make triumphant entry
'Mong Edina's famous gentry,
A discussion did there arise
Among those solons, learned and wise,
About some lines by a new poet ;
The author's name none did know it.
Poem was of Canadian snow,
And how o'er it the blood did flow,
For it had then been swept by war,
Where armies met in deadly jar.
But, 'mong philosphers, was boy
Of tender years, now Scotland's joy ;
He there did quickly quote each line,
And author's name he did define.
Burns glanced at him, with loving eyes,
Youth ever more that look did prize
The happiest moment in his lot ;
Ever revered by Walter Scott,
Thus Scotland's greatest poets met,
And they did part with sad regret.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Patrick Colum
He penned 'The Old Woman Of The Roads' and 'A Cradle Song'
And to Ireland's best lyricists he surely belong
And his haunting ballad 'She Moved Through The Fair'
With any song ever written is one to compare.
And though to the reaper the poet has long gone
His best poems and lyrics will always live on
He sure was a master of the wordsmith trade
Poets like him are born they cannot be made.
The name of Patrick Colum is a memorable name
Even in his own lifetime he did know great fame
The beauty in his verses is for all to see
A man of great talent who penned great poetry.
Many of his poems are good but his best poems are great
And with the best of Eire he is one to rate
And even in death his fan club does grow
Most lovers of poetry a song or poem of Colum's know.
A legend in death and in his own lifetime
Patrick Colum one who penned quite memorable rhyme
His wonderful gift with the World he did share
A poet of the people and his type are rare.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Robbie's Statue
Grown tired of mourning for my sins—
And brooding over merits—
The other night with bothered brow
I went amongst the spirits;
And I met one that I knew well:
‘Oh, Scotty’s Ghost, is that you?
‘And did you see the fearsome crowd
‘At Robbie Burns’s statue?
‘They hurried up in hansom cabs,
‘Tall-hatted and frock-coated;
‘They trained it in from all the towns,
‘The weird and hairy-throated;
‘They spoke in some outlandish tongue,
‘They cut some comic capers,
‘And ilka man was wild to get
‘His name in all the papers.
‘They showed no gleam of intellect,
‘Those frauds who rushed before us;
‘They knew one verse of “Auld Lang Syne—”
‘The first one and the chorus:
‘They clacked the clack o’ Scotlan’s Bard,
‘They glibly talked of “Rabby;”
‘But what if he had come to them
‘Without a groat and shabby?
‘They drank and wept for Robbie’s sake,
‘They stood and brayed like asses
‘(The living bard’s a drunken rake,
‘The dead one loved the lasses);
‘If Robbie Burns were here, they’d sit
‘As still as any mouse is;
‘If Robbie Burns should come their way,
‘They’d turn him out their houses.
‘Oh, weep for bonny Scotland’s bard!
‘And praise the Scottish nation,
‘Who made him spy and let him die
‘Heart-broken in privation:
‘Exciseman, so that he might live
‘Through northern winters’ rigours—
‘Just as in southern lands they give
‘The hard-up rhymer figures.
‘We need some songs of stinging fun
‘To wake the States and light ’em;
‘I wish a man like Robert Burns
‘Were here to-day to write ’em!
‘But still the mockery shall survive
‘Till the Day o’ Judgment crashes—
‘The men we scorn when we’re alive
‘With praise insult our ashes.’
And Scotty’s ghost said: ‘Never mind
‘The fleas that you inherit;
‘The living bard can flick them off—
‘They cannot hurt his spirit.
‘The crawlers round the bardie’s name
‘Shall crawl through all the ages;
‘His work’s the living thing, and they
‘Are fly-dirt on the pages.’
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Auld Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
Well take a cup o kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
We twa hae run aboot the braes
And poud the gowans fine;
Weve wanderd mony a weary foot
Sin auld lang syne.
We two hae paidled i the burn,
Frae mornin sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roard
Sin auld lang syne.
And heres a hand, my trusty friend,
And gies a hand o thine;
Well take a cup o kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
Well take a cup o kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
Well take a cup o kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Love Burns
See what you do
You make me act so crazy
I'm overcome, I know
Stealin' my own show
For your love
And who am I now, Clown or Casanova
I'm never sure with you
And what more can I do
For your love burns
Warmer than you know
When love burns,
Never let it go away
And where do we go
Find a road to lead us
I'm searching in your eyes
A world beyond the skies
For your love burns
Brighter than you know
When love burns,
Never let it go away
Love burns
Brighter than you know
Oh, love burns
Never let it go away
Love burns when the spirit is wounded
Cut deep by the sound of rejection
Love burns in the soul of the seeker
Blue shadows in every direction
Love burns when the heart is uncovered
In the rage of the coldly storm
Love burns
Through the night and the morning
Till the frozen heart is warm
Love burns
Love burns
Love burns
Love burns
(Tom HensleyAlan Lindgren)
Album: On They Way To The Sky
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Poems Of John Clare
For years in Northampton mental asylum he battled his ghosts of despair
His Nation's finest poet of Nature the marvellous wordsmith John Clare
So many of his poems are relevant today
The one who loved Nature with words had a way.
The Helpston he grew up in not a cultural place
And though in that old Village his was a known face
They little realized the fame to them he'd bring
That poetry lovers World wide his praises would sing.
Without him less people of Helpston would know
The great poet of Nature of centuries ago
He died in Northampton mental asylum in dire poverty
Yet is there one greater Nature poet than he?
His flora and fauna poems have passed scrutiny's test
And as a Nature poet he was surely the best
Into the soul of Nature it seemed he could see
And his verses have outlived his mortality.
He never did enjoy his literary renown
And he died in the asylum in Northampton Town
But he was a true poet and his type are so rare
And old Helpston lives on in the poems of John Clare.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Hearing One Reciting Verses Of Callanan
He recited Gougane Barra and the outlaw of Lough Lene
And my thoughts went back the long gone years to my school going days again
When our teacher recited those verses to us from the pen of a Cork born bardic man
The one whose bones rest in distant Portugal Jeremiah Joseph Callanan.
The poems of J J Callanan will live forever more
And are recited far distant from green old Erin's shore
A true poet of the people though he died poor and young
And he was one of genius and his songs are still sung.
The poet and hedge school teacher his poems known far and wide
And greatness is a thing of him that can never be denied
He recited his verses in village and in town
And even in his too brief life Callanan knew renown.
He recited Gougane Barra and it took me far away
To the school house room in Millstreet happy memories with us stay
When our teacher recited the poems of Callanan 'he was showing his years in gray'
Back in the nineteen fifties and that's going back many a day.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sigerson Clifford Sung Of
Sigerson Clifford sung of the The Boys of Barr Na Sraide the happy boys who hunted for the Wran
The boys who grew up to be freedom fighters Who took on the British troops The Black and Tan
He glorified them in his famous ballad the brave young rebels of his Kerry Town
The boys of Caherciveen and Barr Na Sraide to fight for Ireland their claim to renown
Sigerson Clifford sung of his gentle teacher the likeable and pleasant Brother Mick
The one who introduced Humanity to his classroom who banished the strap that pained and burnt the stick
A better and by far a more successful teacher than those who took delight in the usage of the cane
He was so different to his other teachers that he and his school mates wondered was he sane
Sigerson Clifford sung about the Irish Travellers of them some famous ballads he did write
He was the uncrowned Poet Laureate of Kerry other his songs sing and his poems do recite
His songs and poems are full of joy and pathos the one who was born with the gift of rhyme
In death he remains as a poetic legend and he was a legend in his own lifetime
Sigerson Clifford sung of the Boys of Barr Na Sraide and in Irish literature the renowned Kerry poet
Lives in his poems and songs as one remembered he was indeed a literary man of note.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For Me Far Too Much Foofaraw
For me far too much foofaraw
Your own conclusions on them and their work draw
Though modern poets and their poems in poetry the in thing
And their praises the literary critics sing.
I am not an up with the times man
And of them and their work I am not a fan
For I do love old fashioned rhyme
And my love for it goes back some time.
It gives me joy to sing along
With the singer of the old ballad or song
The sort the travellers at the horse fairs sung
Decades ago when I was young.
A beautiful memory I recall
Of the Millstreet Town horse fair in the Fall
An ageing Irish Traveller sung Burns 'Afton water' what a joy
For a nine year old country boy.
In the poems of modern poets too much foofaraw for me
Though with that many would disagree
I love the music in the rhyme
The poetry of another time.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Auld Lang Syne
Should old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind
Should old acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne
For auld lang syne, my dear...
Hi, this is denny, and speaking for the rest of the guys
Id like to say that it has been a great pleasure
For all of us to bring you this christmas album.
We hope you will treasure it the way we do.
And if you hap happen to be listening to this album right now,
Mike, brian, carl, al and I would like to wish every one of you a very merry christmas,
And we hope the new year brings you as much happiness as this year has brought us.
Thank you very much.
...may old acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Christmas Auld Lang Syne
When mistletoe and tinsel glow
Paint a yuletide valentine
Back home I go to those I know
For a christmas auld lang syne
And as we gather round the tree
Our voices all combine
In sweet accord to thank our lord
For a christmas auld lang syne
When sleigh bells ring and choirs sing
And the childrens faces shine
With each new toy we share their joy
With a christmas auld lang syne
We sing his praise this day of days
And pray next year this time
Well all be near to share the cheer
Of a christmas auld lang syne
In sweet accord to thank our lord
For a christmas auld lang syne
song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Parker Clare
To a forgotten culture perhaps he now belongs
The man who could sing over a thousand songs
The father of the famous poet John Clare
Even in his own time people like him were rare.
The ballad singer of the Helpston countryside
Hundreds of the old songs he sung with him died
So little of the oral tradition now remain
Forever lost not to be found again.
Two hundred years ago one of a dying breed
Poor Parker Clare he could not write nor read
Yet through his son his name lives on today
A memory lost but yet to fade away.
He came from an oral tradition that is forever gone
Yet memories of what was still living on
And at a time when great change was happening in his English countryside
Most of the songs he sung with Parker died.
A fading memory that won't fade away
And through his son his name still lives today
Still a genius in his own right the thresher Parker Clare
And even in his time his type were quite rare.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
White Heat, Red Hot
The fathers son, thy kingdom come, electric ecstasy,
Deliver us from all the fuss and give us sanctuary.
Lead us all into arena, magnificent in death.
Well let us serenade the sinner, well follow in his step.
White heat, red hot burns deep, white heat red hot.
The fury songs, venomous wrongs so rich in tragedy,
An overture forever more to senseless victories.
Give to us this day of glory the power and the kill
So we avoid the wrath and all the almighty fire of
White heat, red hot burns deep, white heat red hot.
The heats hot burns a lot.
Who are not cut out to fight this day will surely fall.
The few who stand to take command forever and ever are men.
Prepare to fight, unsheathe your scythe a ghastly beam of ill
To slice the life with blinding light and seventh dimensional skill.
The centuries of dedication inherited till at last
From years of solar gladiation can only end in
White heat, red hot burns deep, white heat red hot.
The heats hot burns a lot.
Who are not cut out to fight this day will surely fall.
The few who stand to take command forever and ever are men.
White heat
Red hot
White heat
Red hot
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Statue of Robert Burns
To a town in Southern land
Light of purse I come and lone;
And I pause awhile, and stand
By a pedestal of stone;
And I bend my head and bow
While my heart to Scotland turns,
For I know I’m standing now
‘Neath the form of Robbie Burns.
Round the corners of the lips
Lines of laughter seem to run;
From the merry eye there slips
Just a twinkle as of fun.
Living in the sculptor’s art,
Set in stone, mine eye discerns
All the beauty, and a part
Of the soul, of Robert Burns.
One of Caledonia’s sons,
Coming lonely to the land.
Well might think he’d met a friend
Who would take him by the hand,
And the tears spring to his eyes,
While his heart for friendship yearns;
And from out that heart he cries,
“Heaven bless ye, Bobbie Burns.”
“Unto me, as unto you,
Has a hard world done ill turns;
And the sorrows that you knew
I am learning Bobbie Burns.
But I’ll keep my heart above
Until, after many moons,
I return to friends I love,
And to banks line bonnie Doon’s.”
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Reading Poems Of Mangan
Many of his verses tell of his great sadness
The hardships through life he had to endure
He lived in the hungry years of the great famine
And he knew what it was like to be poor.
His father James a Limerick man from Shanagolden
'About that place there is a famous song'
And his mother Catharine Smith from Fishamble Street in Dublin
Quite poor and to poor kindred she belong.
But circumstance of birth doesn't seem to hinder genius
Though wisdom from the poor is seldom quote
And though Mangan's verse today may seem neglected
He surely was a major Irish poet.
He never had his poems published in England
And outside of Ireland he's almost unknown
But his 'Dark Rosaleen' perhaps will live forever
And it took a genius to write such a poem.
He himself said Dark Rosaleen was from the Irish of Costello
And that into English 'Roisin Duibh' he did translate
But many critics say the poem is quite original
And that in any case it lives as something great.
One of Ireland's greatest poets James Clarence Mangan
But in the literary World a near forgotten name
And I have my doubts if there were many better
And he is worthy of a greater fame.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
And thus it was that I started to wonder why Robert Burns is so important to us. We have other poets, and other writers, and other heroes, yet we do not afford them the veneration that we afford to Robert Burns.
quote by Len G. Murray
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Greatest Poem
Good poems don't rhyme
Great poems don't have rhythm
The greatest poem is not one on paper but said out loud
Good poems are about flowers and puppies
Great poems are about peace and happiness
The greatest poems are about change
What should change.
how it should change.
And who should change.
Most of all the greatest poem is not one about the life you wanted to live
But the one you are living.
poem by Getasew Shumet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!